by Marilyn Lee
She immediately saw he was annoyed. But even that didn't distract from his breathtaking looks. Lord, she'd never seen such a sexy man. Just looking at him fully clothed and completely unaware of her as a woman made her wet and hungry for him.
"What's up, Jefferson?" As she spoke, she ate him up with her eyes. She drank in the power inherent in his big, muscular body. He stalked the length of her office with all the grace of a sleek, predatory cat on the prowl. Finally he leaned across her desk and looked into her eyes. "I'm feeling wound up and horny as hell. I'm going to the cabin for a few days."
He had a deep, warm baritone that sent a shiver of longing through her every time he spoke. And it was time she heard that sweet baritone whispering something sexually exciting and suggestive in her ear.
"Great idea." She smiled. "I wish I could join you. I could use a few days of peace and quiet. I'm feeling a little wound up myself."
He considered her in silence, one brow arched. Just as she thought he was about to say he wanted to be alone, he shrugged. "So come with me."
Just for a moment, Sharde thought she had died and gone to heaven. After nine years of watching him eat his heart out, first for his faithless ex-wife and then for his equally faithless ex-fiancée, she was finally about to get a chance to make sure he saw the forest for the trees. Her.
"Ben out of town again?" she asked of his best friend.
He nodded. "But even if he wasn't, I'm not in the mood for his company. I'd rather you came."
"There's only one bedroom," she pointed out.
He grinned. "We can share it."
Her heart thudded. Her spirits soared. She swallowed painfully, going wet at the thought of spending a long weekend at the remote cabin he owned in New York State with a wound up and horny Jefferson. Lord, but she'd give anything to love all his frustrations away.
"Share it?"
His eyes held no trace of lust. Horny he might be, but she was not on his sexual radar. Hell. He was never going to be horny for her unless she did something to make him notice her as a woman.
Almost as if he'd read her mind and wanted to make it clear why he wanted her company, he straightened and thrust is hands in his pockets. "Okay, I guess that wouldn't be very practical. I'll bring my sleeping bag and use that in the living room. You can have the bedroom."
He'd sleep in his sleeping bag alone when hell froze over.
He looked at her. "We can go bar hopping together and you can stop me from picking up some beautiful blonde bimbo in a bar and falling for her."
Both his ex-wife and his ex-fiancée were blondes. Why couldn't he expand his horizons and see the tall, shapely, albeit none-too-thin, black woman waiting to rock his world? She feared she had little chance of ever getting him hot and horny. Unless she got him drunk first. And that was out of the question. He would have to accept her just as she was while sober. Or she was wasting her time. "Isn't that what men want when they're horny?"
He shrugged. "I've had it with women and committed relationships. I just want sex with no commitments offered or expected."
He wasn't making any sense and she understood why. After three years of marriage, he had walked in on his wife, Linda, with another man. Sharde had watched him shy away from women for two years after his divorce.
Sharde had been with him through his divorce and the tough two years following it, but when he was ready to date again, he had looked elsewhere for love. She'd been dating someone at the time, but she knew that hadn't made any difference. He was just too used to thinking of her as a friend to envision her as a lover.
Nine and a half months earlier, he had asked her to accompany him to a charity function where he met Vanessa Del Warren. Sharde had watched in dismay as the beautiful blonde had taken one look at him, smiled, cast out her line, and easily reeled him in.
He had sent Sharde home in a cab. Although she and he had plans to work on the office budget that weekend, she had not seen or heard from him again. He arrived at work late Monday morning. Later that day, Vanessa Del Warren had waltzed into the office to show off the expensive engagement ring Jefferson had bought her that morning.
Although Jefferson had been eager to get married, he had confessed to Sharde that Vanessa was in no hurry to tie the knot. When Calder Technologies failed to win a multi-million dollar government contract, Vanessa had left him to pursue Clayton Frazier, the owner of Fra-Tech, the company with the winning bid. Admittedly Clayton Frazier was drop-dead, panty-wetting gorgeous, but then so was Jefferson.
Two selfish bimbo bitches had hurt and jaded him, making it harder for a woman who really loved him to win his heart.
She sighed, pushing the memories away. "Not all women are faithless, Jefferson."
His gaze narrowed. "Maybe not, but the ones who aren't leave me cold."
She felt as if he'd tossed a bucket of ice water on her. It was hopeless. He would never see her as a woman capable of fulfilling his sexual fantasies and desires. "I think I'll pass on coming to the cabin after all."
He frowned. "Why?"
Because I'm tired of breaking my heart over you, you big, blind ox! She glanced at her computer. "If we're going to have a hope of landing that next government contract, we're going to need to have more staff in place and I'm still sifting through résumés for new analysts and–"
"Darbi is perfectly capable of sifting through them and flagging the most promising ones for your attention. We hired her to help secure new contracts and lighten your burden. Let her do her job."
In the three years that Darbi had worked for the company, she had become invaluable to Sharde, not only assisting in the everyday running of the company, but doing most of the travel, freeing both Sharde and Jefferson to concentrate on overseeing design and development of new technologies.
She nodded. "I guess you're right. Hiring her was one of our best personnel moves in years. She doesn't mind all the traveling, she's a hard worker, and she gets the job done right the first time."
"So let her do it."
She sat back in her seat. "And she's stunningly beautiful. Don't you think so?"
He shrugged. "Yes. So how about you allow the stunningly beautiful Darbi to do what she was hired to do? Take the pressure off you, which will leave you free to come with me. Suddenly the thought of being there alone doesn't appeal."
So he had noticed how beautiful Darbi was! Just how much else had he noticed? "Would you like to ask her to accompany you?"
He arched a brow. "What? Why the hell would I want her to come with me?"
"You just said she's beautiful."
"So? She's not my type."
"Maybe if you got to know her, you'd find she is."
He leaned across her desk and stared into her eyes. "Let me make myself crystal clear, Sharde, I have absolutely no personal interest in Darbi. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Why not? Is it because she's bl–"
"It's because she doesn't interest me–period!" His eyes narrowed. "Her skin color is not a factor. Contrary to what you might think you know about men, not every man is a sucker for a beautiful woman."
"So if she were a white blonde–"
"What is it with you and this harping on race?"
"I'm not harping on it. I'm just curious."
"Really? Well, although I admit to having a special fondness for blondes, I have dated women who were neither blonde nor white. If a woman interests me, the color of her skin or hair is not a major issue for me. So don't go there, Sharde."
Feeling an invisible weight lift off her shoulders, she sat back in her seat, a small smile curving her lips. So her half-formed fear that he was not attracted to black women need no longer concern her. She frowned. But then he had said it was not a major issue. Did that mean it was an issue for him–even if only a minor one?
"Sharde?"
She flashed a quick smile at him. "So when do you want to head out for the cabin?"
"Did you really think color is an issue with me, Sharde?"
&nbs
p; She saw the concern in his eyes and shook her head. "Not in a bad way, Jeff." She shrugged. "But it would be normal for you to prefer white women."
"Would it? Have you always dated black men?"
"Mostly, yes. Although in high school, I had this monumental crush on Ricardo Montalban." She gave a gusty sigh. "The fantasies I created around him would probably have made him blush."
He smiled. "Since we're sharing secrets, I used to lie awake at night suffering big time lust for Eartha Kitt. I can't tell you how many cold showers I took on her behalf. I always wanted to play Batman to her Catwoman."
She leaned forward, put her face close to his and purred.
He smiled, then sighed. "You know, no matter how bad things are you have a way of making them seen better for me. I don't know what I would have done without you at my side these last few years."
The words, spoken in a low, sincere voice held little comfort. She was long past the point where she wanted to be his rock. Being the woman he turned to when he wanted to get physical was more important to her these days. She suppressed a sigh and pasted a tight smile onto her face. "You'd have been fine. Ben would have seen to that."
"Benton is the best friend a man could have." He touched her cheek. "But sometimes a man needs or wants a woman's perspective."
"A woman. . . that's me," she said softly.
He nodded. "I know."
But she doubted that. "We're leaving when?
"We can go this afternoon. We'll make a long weekend of it and come back Monday night."
Four days and three nights spent alone with him in a small, remote cabin. She moistened her lips. "It might snow."
He shrugged. "I'll leave now and get everything we'll need for a few days. All you'll need to do is pack warm clothing and several books. I'll pick you up at your place at three and we'll get there in time for dinner. Okay?"
That would give her several hours to devise a plan for ending up in his bed before the weekend was over. She nodded. "Okay."
"Great." He smiled and her heart jumped in her chest. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"Okay."
* * *
Twenty minutes later, seated in one of the leather chairs in front of Sharde's desk, Darbi studied her face. "You're spending a long weekend with the boss?"
Noting Darbi's lack of surprise, Sharde sighed. "You don't sound surprised."
Darbi shrugged. "I can't say I am. I've suspected for some time that there's more than friendship between you two."
Sharde blinked. "You have? Why?"
She shrugged. "It has something to do with the way you look at him and the sound of his voice when he's talking to or about you. You look at him like a woman looks at a special lover and his voice always softens when he talks about you."
Sharde shook her head slowly. She could believe that her feelings for Jefferson were not always concealed, but she'd never noticed any softening of his voice when he spoke to her. "I'm not sure what you are seeing or hearing, but there's nothing between us. We're friends."
"With benefits?"
Friends with benefits. That described the only way she'd be interested in remaining friends with him. "No. Just friends."
"So this weekend. . . you're hoping to change that?"
She shrugged. "Do you think it's possible?"
"I'm surprised it's not already true. The passion simmering just under the surface between you two seems explosive."
"Don't I wish." She shook her head. "Back to business. You'll be all right until Tuesday?"
"Of course. What about you? Are you going to be all right on Tuesday?"
"I'll be fine no matter what the weekend brings or doesn't bring. Either way, it's time I took control of my own happiness again."
"If you want to talk, call me."
She shook her head. "This is something I need to work out in my own mind first. But thanks, Darbi."
Darbi smiled. "That's what friends are for. So I'll see you on Tuesday."
* * *
Ninety minutes into the three-hour drive, snow fell hard and heavy, making driving and visibility difficult. Sharde sat in the passenger seat of Jefferson's SUV, praying he wouldn't decide to turn around and head home. No matter what, if they made it to the cabin, she was going to find some way to get him in bed before the weekend was over.
Five hours after they'd left Philly, he stopped the SUV in front of the cabin. They sat staring through the windshield. Several inches of snow covered the roof and the ground around the modest small cabin. The snow still fell heavily. She squinted. Or was it now sleet?
He swore softly and reached into the glove compartment for a flashlight. "I'd better go see how things stand. Wait here," he told her and climbed out of the vehicle, leaving the engine running.
She cast a smile upward, leaned back against her seat, and offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving. The weather had done its part, now all she had to do was hers. She closed her eyes, considering strategies for seducing him.
"Damn!"
The harsh sound and a cold blast of air snapped Sharde out of her lovely thoughts of nights of lust and unbridled passion spent under Jefferson's big, sweaty, thrusting body.
Cheeks hot, she opened her eyes. Jefferson slid into the driver's seat.
"So?"
"The power is out and it's cold as hell out there and inside. We'll be snowed in if this damn snow doesn't stop soon."
A feeling of delight danced through her. It was difficult not to laugh out loud or at least grin! She cast a quick glance upwards. Someone up there must think it was time to give her a chance at happiness. Or at least a taste of bliss, Calder style.
"There's a fireplace in the cabin," she reminded him. She went hot and then cold at the thought of lying naked and aroused in front of a roaring fire with Jefferson lying on top of her, between her legs, loving away all her emotional aches and pains.
He squinted through the windshield. "Maybe we should go back while we can."
She fought back panic. "It took five hours to get here. God only knows how long it will take to get back. Why don't we just go inside, start a fire, and get something to eat? I'm tired and hungry." And desperate to be alone and snowbound with you.
He sighed. "Okay."
She released her seatbelt and moved to open her door.
His arm brushed against her breasts as he reached across her to place a hand on hers over the door handle. "It's cold as hell and slippery out there. Stay here while I start a fire and get our stuff inside."
Very aware of his arm brushing against her body, she turned her head. His gray eyes were inches away. "It will go faster if I help carry our bags inside."
"Stay inside," he said again, withdrew his arm, and got out.
Enjoying the warmth of the SUV, she watched him make several trips to the cabin. She had seen how chivalrous he could be when he was in love, but he'd always tended to treat her like an old family friend instead of a woman he wanted or needed to play Sir Galahad with. So he could be a gentleman when it came to her. A smile touched her lips.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the cabin and opened her door. She turned off the engine, removed the keys, and was surprised when he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her down.
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
"Be careful," he said and turned away.
She took a step, her right foot landed on a slick patch of snow and slid out from under her. "Jefferson!"
He whirled around, slightly off balance, his arm shooting around her waist. "It's all right. I've got you," he said against her forehead.
Heart hammering, she sighed and leaned against him, laughing weakly. "That was close."
"Too close. I told you it was slippery as hell out here." He took a step back to balance himself. His foot hit a slick patch. He made a small sound of surprise, his arm tightened around her waist, and he lost his balance.
She tried to steady him, but he was too big and heavy. He fell, taking her with him. He slammed ont
o the snow with her on top of him. "Damn! What more could possibly go wrong?" he demanded furiously.
From where Sharde lay, sprawled between his legs, things were perfect. She lifted her head and looked down into his eyes, laughing.
He frowned. "Exactly what amuses you about our present situation?"
Her smile widened. "You're awfully cute sprawled in the snow like a six-foot plus snowman."
His eyes danced with amusement and he laughed. "You're nuts, Sharde."
"Yes," she admitted, softening her voice. "About you."
"Same here, toots."
"No." She touched his face. "I really meant that," she whispered.
He arched a brow. "So did I. You know I'm nuts about you."
To her delight, he clamped a hand on the back of her head, brought her mouth down to his, and brushed his lips against hers.
At least, she later decided he'd only intended to brush his mouth against hers. But not one to waste opportunities, she parted her lips, touched the tip of her tongue to his, and planted a long, moist, hungry kiss against his mouth.
He stiffened under her, his hands moving up to push against her shoulders.
Determined to make the most of this unexpected opportunity, Sharde pressed closer between his legs, thrusting her groin against his, and deepened the kiss. She greedily sucked his tongue between her lips and into her mouth.
As he shuddered against her, she kissed him slowly, deeply. She did it repeatedly, tasting the surprising sweetness of his lips and the moist heat of his tongue. She poured all her pent up desire and hunger for him into the demanding kisses, trying to overwhelm his senses. She kept her lips pressed tight and close to his, not giving either of them a chance to take a deep breath between kisses. Within moments, his lips moved against hers and his hands slid from her shoulders to her back to hold her close. Only then did she move her mouth away from his so she could rain a series of warm, nibbling kisses against his face.
"Jeff. . ."
He sucked in a deep, gasping breath. "Sharde! What the hell are you doing?"
His voice came out brusque and low.
A smile curved her lips. She finally had his attention. She curled her fingers in his hair and stared down into his eyes. "Thanking you for saving me from a nasty fall."